Legend had it that the painting hanging in the kitchen had once gone missing.
One night, a wizard broke in through the window and stole it.
He wasn't just any thief, he was a thief with taste, an art aficionado, someone who wanted to pay homage to the Four Founders.
Thieves like this...were rare!
William had heard of similar stories in his previous life.
For example, during a dangerous period when a virus swept through Europe, a Van Gogh enthusiast still ventured out to steal The Spring Garden on Van Gogh's 167th birthday.
A true fan indeed.
In some ways, the value of a painting often increased if it had been stolen.
Before the Mona Lisa was stolen, it wasn't even the Louvre's most prized treasure, nor did it carry its current legendary status.
But after such a sensational event, it gained unparalleled fame.
William admired the painting in the kitchen, his eyes lingering on its familiar details. He had seen it many times before.
Just then, Hermione tugged at his sleeve.
"What is it?"
Following her gaze, William noticed a line of house-elves.
At the end of the line was a table, where Boba Tea and Mrs. Norris sat perched.
Each house-elf placed their prepared dish on the table. If the two cats liked the food, the elves got to pet them.
Sometimes... they were even allowed to hold the cats for a while.
The house-elves were petting cats!
Can you believe it?
Even more shocking, Boba Tea and Mrs. Norris were voluntarily participating!
It seemed that, for food, they were willing to sacrifice anything.
"Doesn't Mrs. Norris look... rounder?" Hermione asked in confusion.
Every time they had seen Mrs. Norris before, she had been gaunt and bony.
Now, she seemed plumper.
"Could Boba Tea have... gotten her pregnant?" William exclaimed, startled.
Wait a minute...
Boba Tea and Mrs. Norris hadn't seen each other for the whole summer. Normal cats' gestation periods were only about two months, so this couldn't possibly be Boba Tea's doing.
William could almost see Boba Tea turning from an orange cat to a "green" cat.
Then again…
William suddenly remembered something, Mrs. Norris wasn't an ordinary cat. She clearly had Kneazle blood.
Kneazles were magical creatures that resembled cats. They were highly intelligent, preferred solitude, and could be quite aggressive.
They also had a remarkable ability to sense untrustworthy or suspicious individuals.
That's why Mrs. Norris could follow Filch on his patrols so effectively.
Being a half-Kneazle, Mrs. Norris's gestation period was likely different.
Well... maybe Boba Tea wasn't as "green" as William had feared.
After finishing their meal, Mrs. Norris stretched gracefully, meowed twice, and seemed to suggest that Boba Tea should go exercise to help with digestion.
Boba Tea, however, noticed William and the others and remembered he had "servants" to attend to. With a cool demeanor, he declined Mrs. Norris's suggestion.
Not only that, but Boba Tea, full and content, seemed entirely uninterested in Mrs. Norris's company.
What a scoundrel of a cat!
A complete scoundrel!
Hermione appeared to share William's thoughts, she gave him a strange look.
What was that look for?
It wasn't as if he'd taught Boba Tea this behavior!
Once they got back, Boba Tea might need a little... permanent disciplinary action.
When the young wizards arrived, the house-elves greeted them enthusiastically.
Over a hundred house-elves stood in the kitchen, bowing and curtseying, all smiles.
Each elf wore the same uniform: a tea towel emblazoned with the Hogwarts crest.
"Oh... Hogwarts is oppressing so many house-elves," Hermione murmured sadly.
However, she didn't immediately launch into a speech about freeing the house-elves.
Their submissive nature was too ingrained for that to be effective.
Thanks to William's teachings, Hermione knew she needed to take things slowly... for example, by starting with a small goal.
First, establish an organization—The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare (S.P.E.W.).
Then, hold the first meeting to determine the group's objectives, foundational policies, recruitment strategies, and plans to establish local and central branches. The organization would also need guidelines and bylaws.
They'd even need a core guiding philosophy, as well as long-term and short-term goals—otherwise, the movement was doomed to fail.
William was well-versed in such things. After all, in his previous life, he had been a man who had thoroughly studied the "five volumes of dragon-slaying techniques."
Seeing William and the others arrive, the house-elves became even more enthusiastic, rushing over with a large silver tray.
On the tray was a teapot, some milk, and a large platter of pastries.
The three of them ate until they were full before remembering Professor McGonagall's punishment.
"So, how do we clean this place? It looks cleaner than my room," Annie said as she ran her hand across a table.
The table was spotless. Flies would slip if they tried to land on it! Mosquitoes would lose their footing!
"Is there anywhere that isn't quite clean?" William asked.
"There is!" an elf named Winnie piped up.
"The ghosts are holding a Deathday Party for Nearly Headless Nick on Halloween. He asked us to leave some food out here."
The house-elves all began criticizing the ghosts, as if blaming them for hindering the elves' progress.
Led by Winnie, William, Hermione, and Annie walked toward a secluded corner.
"A Deathday Party?" Hermione said excitedly. "I didn't know ghosts held such events! We should attend!
"I bet not many living people can say they've been to one, it must be fascinating..."
Her voice trailed off.
She stopped, frozen in horror.
In the corner were piles of rotten fish, pitch-black charred cakes, maggot-infested haggis, and cheese covered in green mold.
Hermione held back her nausea, already regretting how much she'd eaten earlier.
As for the Deathday Party? Forget it!
"The ghosts probably left the food here to let it rot, enhancing the creepy atmosphere for their party," William speculated.
It seemed McGonagall's idea of a punishment was to have them clean up this mess. After all, rotting food in the kitchen was incredibly unsanitary.
William tapped Hermione and Annie lightly on the head with his wand, casting a Bubble-Head Charm on both of them.
The three of them, now shielded, began to clear away the rotten food.
"But where should we put it?" Annie asked.
"The ghosts need this food for their party. Are we supposed to just toss it in the bin?"
That was a valid point.
The food couldn't be thrown away, but leaving it in the kitchen until Halloween would make the entire room reek.
The Room of Requirement wasn't an option either as William used it regularly, and even if he couldn't see the mess, the thought of it would still bother him.
"Oh, I've got the perfect place," Hermione said with a grin.
"We can put the rotting food in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. It's been abandoned for ages and no one ever goes there!"
"And if someone does go there, it's probably not for anything wholesome!" Hermione added confidently.
"What are you whispering about?" a familiar voice interrupted.
Moaning Myrtle floated out of the wall.
Hermione jumped in fright, nearly dropping a piece of rotten fish onto Annie.
"I heard someone mention my name!" Myrtle wailed, "I hope you weren't talking behind my back!"
Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.
She looked like she was on the verge of a full-blown meltdown.